Pages

Monday, April 28, 2008

Diesel's Bird . . . 4/28/08My brother draws first blood during this Spring's Turkey Season with this 19 lb bird having an 8 inch beard and 3/4 inch spurs. He shot the GOBBLER from a dog house blind in Augusta with his Benelli Nova loaded with lead number 4's at 7:30 AM on April 28th, 2008! Congrats Bro . . . job well done!

Shawn T's Story . . . 5/5/08I missed the biggest bird I have ever seen. 30 yards. Misfired twice. Shot clear over him the third time. He flew away. I threw up. My father laughed. 12-14 inch beard. Tail so big he could not hold it up. Easily went 22-23 lbs. He started gobbling at 5:15 and kept gobbling until I started sounding off with the mouth call. He shut right up and I knew he was coming. Took him about a half hour to get to us and he stayed right on the edge of the woods until he got close to the dekes and then he strutted right out about 10 yards from one of the hens. What follows are the exact thoughts running through my head:

Oh man, this is gonna happen, look at the size of that bird.....Oh my God is he beautiful.....Ok, line up...slowly, slowly.....squeeze.....wait for it.....click. CRAP! Misfire! He's getting nervous....slide the forearm back and re-cock...don't eject the shell...too much noise.....Line up....CLICK!!!!! WTF!!! Bird getting edgy now...gonna run at any moment.....Ok, take a breath, slide the forearm half way, recock....oh crap he is gonna run, pull the trigger, PULL THE TRIGGER!!!!!! BOOM! right over his head.....Oh no.....I missed...but how....that can't be right. That bird just flew away....watch him...he's gonna fall at any moment....wait, he is still gaining altitude, looks ok...that can't be right. Blaaaaaaaah, Blaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh. I love Mossberg.....

Shawn T's Story . . . 5/6/08Well you probably won't believe this but I missed another bird this morning after a significant spot and stalk effort. I literally crawled through a muddy field for over a hundred yards and got within 10 feet of 7 birds. One of the Jakes busted me so I stood up and walked right at them. The big bird had about a 6 inch beard and I ran right through all the other birds and jinked as I fired . . . total miss at 10 feet. Man this is gonna be a long season.......

Shawn T connects! . . . 5/7/08Last Wednesday I came very close to not getting up. After several 3AM mornings with my father the previous week and a couple of very early morning misses during my season....I was really dreading the alarm clock going off. My excitement had kept sleep at a minimum for well over a week now. My father had called me the previous night to inform me a buddy of his had spotted a big gobbler in a field familiar to both of us that evening. He also informed me he needed a break and would not be accompanying me the next morning. When the clock went off at 3:05, I thought twice...three times even before if finally whipped off the covers, envisioning that gobbler strutting in that field was the only thing that pushed me out of bed.

I hit the field at 4:10AM, the warblers were already sounding off and I could see the morning rising to the east. The temp was warm and everything felt....alive. I made my way to the far corner of the field where at least 4 birds have fallen over the years past. My dad took his first bird here...a jake...5 years ago. I've messed up on a few birds here and a monster 8 point buck.....no matter. I know the Gobbler spotted the night before is near by in one of the huge White Pines surrounding the field and woods. I pitch the 2 hen decoys, cut a few branches for cover, and setup under the familiar dead spruce I've sat at so many times. For the next 40 minutes I cat nap and wait for the black to turn gray and blue. I keep hearing some movement above and behind me...I've had several porcupines walk up on me in this area....I chalk it up to an early rising squirrel and concentrate on the growing bird activity in the woods.

At 4:55 he finally lets out a loud gobble lighting up the woods and my adrenaline level. He's perched in a big pine about a hundred yards from the field and directly behind me. He barks at everything that crosses hispath...woodpeckers, crows, jays, barking squirrels. This bird just won't shut up! At about 5:30 I hit him with a couple of yelps and clucks from my diaghram call...and he does not respond!!!!! I give it 5 minutes and hit it a bit harder....nothing. Just then I hear a hen sound off in a tree near to his location. He lights up every time she hollers out. My heart sinks. My confidence at calling gobblers into range is at an all time high but competing with a live hen that is obviously ready to get it on....oh man...is this going to be day 3 without a bird?

I decide to take an aggressive calling tactic switching between mouth calls every set and hollering out every time that hen speaks up. I figure if I'm more excited than she, he'll eventually come to me and I was right. I hear him fly down at about 6 am and start to walk behind me towards the field away from the hen. About this time, I hear a bird fly down into the field out of the big pine next to the spruce I'm leaning against. She starts calling excited and begins to move away from my location. The position that I'm sitting in does not allow me a view of her but I know she is near by.

As big boy makes his way through the woods, he is yacking the whole way and finally makes it to the field about 30 yards behind me. He is out of my view. By the time I get eyeballs on him, he is 50 yards away and making a b-line for 2 hens that were in the tree above me and are now 200 yards across the field! He doesn't even give my dekes a second look, AHHHHH!!!! I break out the Binoc's and start classing him. He is huge...simply huge. I can see his beard and spikes clearly from 200 yards away. I make the decision to try and sneak out of the field if he doesn't start to show interest in my dekes soon. He'll be here tomorrow and I know where to setup now. But before I sneak out, I decide to use my box call in one last fit of desperation.

I've got to back up here and say that he had stopped strutting and was feeding. One of the hens had also started squatting in the dirt and was giving off heavy breeding signals but that didn't matter when I hit that box call. He lit up like the Rockafeller Christmas tree!!!! That bird stood straight up, and gobbled 3 times straight when I sounded off with the box call! He quickly got behind the two hens and started herding them towards my dekes! I couldn't believe it...second chance!

He made his way across the field and headed for the wood line exactly where he came out. The two hens quickly joined my dekes and one of the hens started to get VERY aggressive and vocal....I would almost say jealous...as I responded with the box call. She got about 5 feed from one of the dekes and starting cackling and clucking at my deke.....almost challenging her to a fight! That big Tom was eating it up and kept inching closer, gobbling with every interchange between his hot girl and my foam Dicks Decoy! CAT FIGHT!!!!! No male can resist, human or otherwise. I kept softly calling on the box call and he couldn't resist. He kept creeping from my left blind spot and finally got 20 yards away. I slid old Winchester through a hole in the brush and let Big Boy have it......unreal!

When I went to collect him, another hunter appeared from the woods and explained the he was the vocal hen from early in the morning. He had snuck down to the field from on the hill where Big Boy was roosting. He had taken up a position on the field edge waiting for Big Boy to come closer. Had he not seen my decoys, the other hunter would have been shooting right across the front of me at Big Boy. He saw the whole thing go down. I never saw him. Bird weighed 20 Lbs. with 1 1/4 inch spurs and an 11 inch beard. My best yet!

Hammer's Bird . . . 5/6/08After sitting in the doghouse blind from 4:30 AM till 11:30 AM yesterday I was prepared to do some runnin and gunnin this morning. The birds were hot between 5:00-5:45 AM but after that the gobbling came to a screaming halt. I had set-up in a small vacant lot a short drive from the house and though the toms were responding to my calls I just couldn't talk them into crossing the road and walking into my ambush. As my watch ticked 6:30 AM I decided to abandon my position, stretch and take a short walk. I heard a gobble quite a distance from where I had heard the birds earlier and could tell that they had moved on to another field. I grabbed my gear, headed across the road and set-up in the location where they had been roosting the previous evening. My thought was to hit them when they worked their way back. At 8:00 AM I was dozing and awoken from my half asleep state when a hen come in from my backside at around 10 yards and let out a cackle. I kept still and she passed without letting out any warning, however, my hope that she was dragging with her a male bird did not materialize.

I waited until about 9:30 AM and then decided to head back to the house get a cup of joe and then head out on the back part of my property for the remaining 2 1/2 hours. Walked back to the truck, unloaded the 10 gauge and threw all my gear in the bed and started to drive back to the house. I barely drive 200 yards and 2 hens and 2 jakes run right across the road in front of the truck. I spin the truck around in my neighbors driveway and drive back past the birds and note that they are heading directly to the north and parallel to the road. Perfect! I quickly park the truck and grab my gun, turkey vest, thermarest seat and THANKFULLY my bug netting and slip into the woods. I quickly find a spot to set-up and then realize as soon as I sit down that I am exposed and in a terrible position. Time is wasting I think to myself and I jump up and set on a small rock ledge with small spruce trees all around me. Ummm, much better . . .

I pull the bug netting over my head and in seconds of sitting am swarmed by hundreds of hungry blackflies. I get on the box call and let out a few yelps but get nothing to reply. After about 20 minutes I hear several gobbles back across the road on the other side. I am almost ready to think I have once again been outsmarted when I hear a cluck directly in front of my position. In just a few minutes I can hear a rustling of leaves on my left and the wary birds circle my position and come in directly from the right. The whole process seems to take an eternity but in reality it was only about 15 minutes. Suddenly I see movement and a turkey (as yet unidentified) begins to sneak in to check out the hen decoy. Through the bug netting I struggle to identify but finally the bird steps out of the shadows and I can see a small beard and red head. I raise the mighty Browning 10 and as I do a spruce branch swings back and hits me square in the face. I reach up and break the twig and the snap pulls the jake to FULL attention. To late however, as at this time he is perfectly within my firing lane and the gun belches forth a lethal dose of number 5s and the bird drops.

The bird ends up being a small jake at around 12 pounds with about a 3 inch beard but it is definitely a trophy for me. I had to invest a significant amount of time scouting strategizing this spring season and that always makes any hunt incredibly enjoyable. Nothing good ever comes easy BUT I have to say that with the early hatch of blackflies I am incredibly grateful to get my bird early and get out of the woods! To the rest of you good luck this turkey season!

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

To do something a little different, I posted this draft of a story I am currently working on and plan to edit it live. If anyone has any particular direction they would like to see me follow drop me an e-mail. Final edits completed 5/12/08

Adrenaline courses through my veins as once again the time of year approaches when stripped bass begin their annual pilgrimage up Maine’s various tributaries. Typically school size fish are running from mid May till the end of July and offer fantastic fishing. Anglers enjoy good fishing right from shore during the height of the season. A few of my favorite places to go chasing these wily fish are the Kennebec and Penobscot rivers though many other opportunities abound. The town docks in Hallowell and Gardiner (Kennebec) or a short walk south of the public launch on Verona Island (Penobscot) will take you into some great fishing locations. Be cautioned, however, as stripers can be hot and cold and just because fish are biting today does not mean that fish will be there tomorrow. Tides, currents, wind and rain will all contribute to either increase or decrease your chances of catching fish.

Those individuals who are wiling to wet a line in pursuit will be treated to fantastic fishing with a minimal expenditure of money. While you certainly can use light gear and tackle a small investment in a heavy weight pole and reel loaded with 15-20 pound monofilament will greatly increase your chances of landing a sizeable fish should you hook one. Some of the more popular lure choices involve the use of surface poppers, soft plastic sluggos and shads or bottom rigs using bloodworms, clams or bits of mackerel. During the course of the season, it is typical to employ each of these options when appropriate depending on the situation and the buzz at the local bait shop.

Tempted by the chance to land one of these delectable trophies, my brother and I are always willing to employ any legal means necessary to increase our chances of success. During the course of a fishing season, we will employ many and varied techniques to coerce fish into biting. To enforce this point, early last July my brother and I abandoned the luxury of our 16 foot Lund V-Hull and instead embraced the use of small stealthy light weight kayaks to pursue these fish.

Sanity was in question, as we loaded our kayaks and gear into the bed of my brother’s Toyota pick-up and drove to the public landing on Verona Island. Our aggressive plan was to battle the tides and currents of the Penobscot River in the addictive pursuit of slot sized fish. The daytime high was predicted to be in the mid 60s but the suns rays had yet to crest the horizon and a stiff north wind sent a chill running down my spine. Donning our life jackets and packing all of our various fishing equipment, we entered the water and began slowly paddling down the western edge of Verona Island. Once we were able to gain acceptable depth we cast out our 5” pearl colored swim shads and began trolling along the shoreline. It took us a couple of minor bottom snags before we were finally able to develop an acceptable rhythm that allowed the lure to run at an acceptable trolling depth.

With the tidal conditions in our favor we were able to easily traverse the river under the new bridge and paddle up the front face of fort Knox. About this time the sun broke over the horizon and pulling out cameras we started snapping pictures in an attempt to capture the magnificent oranges, vibrant yellows and mellow blues that appeared in that first low morning light. It was breathtaking and so we stopped for a quick break and to check lines. Paddling again up the shore opposite the Bucksport mill I suddenly heard a my brother yell “Fish On!”. Instantly we stated catching school size fish almost as fast as we could reel them in and release them. Between my brother and I we caught 12 fish with my brother landing one 21 inch “legal” slot fish that he also released.

In our utter excitement at catching fish we ignored our plan to paddle back to the landing before the tide turned and the return trip took a supreme effort. Our escape was made even more interesting when I snagged my lure on bottom during our escape and had to frantically cut the 20 pound test line as it spun off my reel at an alarming rate. If I had not thought to keep a knife immediately handy it is likely that all of the line would have been stripped off the reel. As we struggled to return to the landing I began to think that we may have to walk back the shore or ride the Penobscot to Winterport! In the end we did make it back to the landing and though my shoulders were certainly sore from the effort the next day I can guarantee that come next July we will be back in the kayaks touring that fishing the mighty Penobscot.

Pageviews

Steve Vose (AKA The Rabid Outdoorsman) is a Registered Maine Guide, outdoor writer, blogger, photographer and lover of Maine's woods and waters. Through his writing, he shares hunting, fishing & general sporting information with others passionate about the great outdoors. When able to find time in his hectic schedule, he even manages to do a little bit of guiding, where he takes great pride in introducing others to the rugged beauty of the Maine wilderness.